


Waiting

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Birthday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 23:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20143585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Barba and Rita Calhoun get together for drinks on his birthday, but Barba's mind is elsewhere.





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> This little thing popped in my head today and I...couldn't not.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Barba snuck a glance at his phone, even though he knew the movement was going to end up costing him dearly, and he wasn’t wrong. “Am I boring you, Rafael?” Rita asked sweetly, breaking off from her retelling of a particularly disastrous meeting about a plea deal she’d had with SVU’s newest ADA.

“Perpetually,” Barba said dryly, unsurprised to see that he had no new messages since he’d checked his phone ten minutes before, though his heart sank just a little when he saw the time.

Ten minutes to midnight.

Rita pursed her lips slightly but didn’t say anything, just lifting her martini and taking a long sip. “So how does this birthday rank on the comparative scale of Rafael Barba birthdays?” she asked, changing the subject.

Barba snorted and shook his head as he drained his glass of scotch. “I think the last time I actually celebrated my birthday is when you and I were both in law school,” he told her. “So on the scale of passing without recognition to existential dread, more the former than the latter.”

Or at least, it had been more the former than the latter for most of the day, but now that it was approaching midnight, Barba had a feeling today might rank as one of his least favorite birthdays.

And not just because Noah had sent him a birthday card and had, with all the subtlety a third grader could possess, written in it, “Sorry you’re old.”

He’d happily return the favor to Liv on her next birthday, but he suspected it would be less cute coming from a fifty-year-old man than from a child.

But the part that tipped this particular birthday from barely tolerable to something decidedly less so was a text message that Barba was waiting on, one that he was beginning to think wasn’t actually coming. Well, not really _ beginning _ to think — his suspicions had started when he hadn’t woken up to the usual text message. 

Which he had expected, hence why he made deliberate plans for his birthday for the first time in probably decades. Granted, it was just drinks with Rita, but it was better than sitting in his apartment and staring at his phone.

Judging by the look on Rita’s face, he might come to regret that assessment. 

“I’m surprised you asked me if I wanted to get a drink tonight,” she remarked in what she clearly thought was a casual way, and Barba just grunted in response, watching as the time on his phone changed from 11:52 to 11:53.

“I figured it was either that or get drunk,” Barba told her, flagging the bartender down for another drink.

Rita arched an eyebrow. “Oh, are we not meant to be getting drunk?” she asked, mock-innocently, smirking in amusement as Barba rolled his eyes.

“Getting drunk alone,” he amended. “I imagined that would be a fairly pathetic way to spend my birthday, even for me.”

“Well, it’s certainly no two-week cruise up the Rhine like I did for my fiftieth,” Rita mused, “but then I suppose the benefits at the Innocent Project are probably less than I’m used to.”

Barba looked exaggeratedly at the phone, his heart clenching painfully when he saw that it was now three minutes to midnight. “You know, I think this must be a record,” he said, “for how long it’s taken you to disparage my career choices.”

Rita tsk-ed. “I’d have nothing to mock if you’d just taken me up on my offer instead of laughing in my face.”

“I didn’t laugh in your face,” Barba said with a sigh. “Besides, I’m still not entirely sure the partners in your firm would have been on board with hiring me in any capacity, especially not a junior partner like you were suggesting.”

“Rafael, you seriously underestimate my influence, and there’s nothing more insulting than that.”

“However will your pride manage such a blow?” Barba countered with a smirk.

A smirk that slid off his face as he caught sight of the time on his phone, and even though he knew this had been a fool’s errand from the start, he couldn’t help but stare, mentally counting down the seconds until it finally flipped over to midnight, the instant date change on his phone’s lock screen a painful reminder that his birthday was over, and all without the only present he’d ever wanted.

Something softened in Rita’s expression as she examined him, something that on someone else he’d suspect was pity. “I’m assuming your detective didn’t wish you a happy birthday?” she asked, unusually gentle.

“Nope,” Barba said before tossing his drink back in one gulp. “And he’s not my detective. Not anymore.”

That was the whole point of a breakup, after all.

Four months ago now, he and Sonny had broken up, and even though Barba knew it would be more painful than a clean break, he was still stupid enough to hold onto hope that they’d at least find their way back to friendship. 

Instead, it had been four months of radio silence.

And the last hope he’d held onto was that Sonny might reach out for his birthday.

He had been the only one to ever care about Barba’s birthday, after all, had always planned something special and sent Barba a text early in the morning to remind him of their plans and to tell him he loved him.

Needless to say, it wasn’t the plans that Barba missed.

“Maybe he’d been busy at work today,” Rita suggested quietly.

Barba jerked a nod. “Maybe,” he said, and for one brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine it, Carisi surrounded by the usual piles of paperwork, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows as he scribbled notes. He imagined Carisi glancing at the clock, his eyes widening in realization that he’d left it all day and that it was too late now to text.

It was kinder than the likely reality.

Rita sighed, glancing at him. “I know you miss him.”

He did.

More than he could possibly say.

It was like losing a part of himself, suddenly and without warning or way to prepare for it. One day, he and Sonny were together, were happy. The next, Sonny had moved his things out of Barba’s apartment, had walked away as if they had never been together, and left Barba to try to pick up the pieces of the life he had been trying to build.

Well, it wasn’t quite true that it was without warning, but he had the benefit — or curse — of hindsight to fall back on.

“I do miss him,” he admitted quietly.

Rita nodded slowly. “And?” she prompted, after he was silent, staring down at the wood grain of the bar.

“And it doesn’t change anything.”

He gestured to the bartender for another drink and Rita picked up her martini glass, swirling it contemplatively before taking a sip. “Well, you never know,” she said bracingly. “Maybe he’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Barba said. “Maybe.”

They both knew he wouldn’t.

And Barba hated as much as anything that he had spent his entire birthday waiting for a text that he had known all along would never come.


End file.
